


Heavy Blood

by PatchworkSam



Series: Sam Headcanons - BSGC Top 5 Prompt #17 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Headcanon, Major warning for self-harm, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, There is no Happy Ending Here, This is pure unmitigated angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 13:35:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4393877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatchworkSam/pseuds/PatchworkSam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Headcanon: Sam cuts himself with Ruby's knife</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavy Blood

It starts not long after he cured Dean. Sam jolts awake in the middle of the night, Dean’s words ringing in his mind. All the things Sam’s done wrong, all the ways he’s ruined everything. He can’t shake the image of black eyes. But in the dream, those black eyes were his own. He hears Dean’s voice calling him a monster.

He feels sick. He stumbles out of bed, his fingers finding Ruby’s knife on his bedside table. The nightmare still clings around him, thick like oil, like blood. He can feel it in his veins, the evil that’s always lurked in him, the poison, the sin that taints him.

_Monster. Freak. Demon._

He slumps to the floor, shaky fingers running along the blade in his hands. He closes his eyes as he holds it hovering over his arm, so close he can feel the serrated teeth nipping at his skin.

He opens his eyes and watches the blood—his _tainted, evil blood_ —run out as he presses the knife down and drags it across his arm. No red glow emanates from the wound—he’s not a demon. He lets out a shuddering breath. Not a demon, just a freak. A human-demon hybrid freak. He stares at the thick, dark liquid flowing down his arm, wanting to vomit. Instead he just digs the blade in deeper, hissing in pain and anger and disgust.

He clenches his fist, watching through stinging eyes as the vile substance slips from his veins. His arm throbs, but the pain feels right. He’s brought only pain to everyone else in his life; it’s all he deserves. He can’t fathom why Castiel ever pulled him from Hell. By rights he should still be there.

He feels dizzy, and it’s only then he realizes how much blood he’s lost. He sucks in a breath, grabbing for a shirt and wrapping it tight around the wound. He can’t die now. He has to be there for Dean. After everything Dean’s done for him, he can’t let him down again.

He manages to drag himself to his feet, fighting off dizziness, and stumbles toward the bathroom to clean and bandage up his arm.

*     *     *

Dean notices the bandage a day later, but Sam manages to fend off his questions with some story about needing blood for a spell. Silently, he curses himself for being so careless. The last thing Dean needs right now is to be worrying about Sam.

*     *     *

The nightmares don’t stop. They only get worse as time goes on and Sam is powerless to save his brother from the Mark. Every night brings reminders of all the ways he’s failed Dean. And in the end, it’s always Sam staring back with black eyes. Every night he wakes in a cold sweat, and every night his hands find their way to Ruby’s knife again (as they once found their way to _her_ , he thinks, and hates himself even more for it). He has to prove to himself that he’s still not a demon. Has to watch that red poison leaving his body. It’s the only way he can find some sort of relief. Only now he’s careful to use the blade only on his upper arm where his sleeve will hide the evidence.

*     *     *

By the time he discovers the Werther Box and is faced with the price it demands, it’s practically routine. He hardly hesitates. Even if he has to give it all, it’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before. And this time it’s okay, if it will save Dean. He won’t be letting him down by dying, and finally his toxic blood will be good for something.

*     *     *

Everything’s gone horribly wrong. He tried, he tried so hard, and now Charlie’s dead. And it’s his fault. He let her down, he let Dean down, he wrecked everything. All his best efforts came crashing down on him and everyone he loves. Again. Every cell in his body hates its own disgusting existence.

More blood spills onto his bedroom floor.


End file.
